


Chip off the Old Block

by TheColorBlue



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheColorBlue/pseuds/TheColorBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunson Abadeer probably isn't going to win any Father of the Year Awards, but who cares, it's not in his nature, and it's not even like he holds himself to the usual standards of People Who Don't Live in the Nightosphere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chip off the Old Block

Hunson Abadeer is a soulless bastard. It’s part of the job description. He’s also a careless, rather thoughtless person, but that’s part of being ruler of the Nightosphere. Anyone who hangs onto anything too hard and too long just wouldn’t last in a den of chaotic evil. On the other hand, there are still certain vague expectations, and in his careless, thoughtless way, Hunson Abadeer likes to push for those expectations.

Marceline just doesn’t get it. Kids these days, right? Who even knows what goes on in their heads. Hunson sort of rubs his cheeks with both hands, thinking about it, thinking about his crazy daughter living in the world of humans—or the land of of Ooo, whatever they call it these days—and then goes off to kick a few more minions and suck up a few more souls. 

\--

It wasn’t that he forgot that he’d had a daughter, five hundred years of Marceline growing up like a feral thing in the other world without her real father. She’d been with her mother, he’d thought, and anyway it wasn’t like he could leave the Nightosphere without a summoning, and so in his careless way he’d just left it alone. The two of them would come home when they felt like it.

Marceline finally figured out how to summon her father as an adolescent, living in an abandoned, filthy diner. Or maybe she had killed everyone and sucked the blood out of their bodies. Hunson would have approved of that scenario, until he figured out that it couldn’t be true, the way she was and the things she didn’t do. 

At first he grinned wide at her and was going to suck up her soul, until he looked at her face and recognized his own flesh and blood. 

“Marceline, kiddo? Man, what a dump. Where’s your mother? What are you eating around here? Say, aren’t you even going to offer your old man some hospitality—“

He was sort of looking around then, inspecting their surroundings, and if he’d been paying attention, he would have put more thought to the sound that came out of her mouth then, a nearly heart-broken “ _what_.”

\--

He couldn’t even understand her rage at seeing him scarf down some day-old French Fries in the middle of the night—her old man getting himself a midnight snack. She’d screamed and raged at him, “I hate you, _I hate you_ \--“ and the next moment he found himself shoved back into the Nightosphere. 

Hunson picked himself up, brushed off his clothes, and then scratched his head.

Kids these days. He didn’t get it. 

Maybe she was just going through some kind of phase—pretty normal for a demon kid. Always these violent tendencies, wanting to take a shot at their fathers and all. Hunson remembered the same, being an adolescent, thousands of years ago. 

Hunson smiled a little, thinking about it, the corners of his mouth curling up. 

Yeah, chip off the old block, his Marceline. 

\--

Hundreds of years later, his chip off the old block is actually visiting her old man—and, okay, this is after the sucking up all the souls of Ooo incident, and the trying to trick his daughter into joining the family business incident, and by this time that Finn kid has a girlfriend of his own age or whatever and when Hunson waggles his eyebrows at the pair, Marceline starts yelling at him.

Apparently, the whole posse came because they didn’t trust the old man not to try anything funny. 

Fair enough. 

It’s just a lunch visit. There’s a spread of everything laid out on the table, and everyone makes their own sandwiches. 

“You really don’t want to join the family business?” Hunson asks around a mouthful of ham and Swiss. Guy’s gotta try, right?

“Yeah, Dad, I really don’t.” 

“Marceline’s dad, you gotta be cool about this,” Finn says. He’s a plucky little kid, Hunson will give him that, and Hunson sort of looks at him, mouth quirked. 

“I just want to look out for my little girl,” Hunson says. “Kid like you—you don’t really get what it means to have that.” Then he looks over at Flame Princess thoughtfully. She’s toasting the dog’s sandwich for him. “Although maybe give it a few years…”

“ _Dad!_ ” Marceline hisses.

“That’s my girl,” Hunson says fondly. 

“You’re such a pain!” 

“I know,” Hunson says. “And I’m glad you came home to visit, kid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Marceline says, staring at her sandwich stuff. 

She’s constructing a sandwich tower out of everything colored pink or red on the table: Ham. That pink dressing. Slices of beets. It looks a bit strange, but all the flavor and texture will be from the kind of colors she chooses, anyway. 

When she turns to look towards it, Hunson reaches over and hands her the plate of tomatoes. 

“…Thanks Dad.”

Hunson hums a little to himself as he opens the pickle jar. “Yep.”


End file.
